Good Music and Chicken
by Temperance-is -a -virtue
Summary: I know the title is wierd but it was the best I couuld come up with on short notice. Basically, Booth sets out to prove he's not chicken. The music part comes later.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. I think I own this ff though. Well, I thought this up as I sat reading ff,s and so it is kinda rough. It is about… oh just read it. On with it chaps! 

He knew she was here!

Temperance Brennan was one stubborn mule sometimes. He had expected her to go home after they had wrapped up their case. Because who wouldn't want to go home and rest after going head to head and fist to fist (literally, on her part) with a pedophile?

But no. here she was, in her sacred lab, examining some dude who died whenever. He knew that the most tactical approach was to tempt her with food. Maybe a trip to Wong Foo's would get her mind off her current fixation.

Or maybe a nice cozy dinner at a restaurant…

But she would never go for the idea. She would probably tell him that this was a stupid idea, an excuse on his part to stir up trouble, but he had to do it.

He realized too late that he had been staring at her back for a minute or longer. She turned and shock registered on her face.

That was a millisecond before she tripped.

"Whoa!" was all he could say before he reached out to grab her. The force at which she landed on him sent him back and pretty soon he was falling too. Luckily, the wall behind him prevented that. The two of them crashed with a groan.

They leaned there in silence as they assessed their positions. And she assaulted his senses.

"Why are you here, Booth?" she asked him. He tried to ignore the tingling that her breath left on his skin and the shiver that ran up his spine as a result.

"Umm… I need to ask you a favour, Bones. I know you're gonna say its stupid, that I need professional help, that this is bothering me too much…"

"Booth, is something wrong?"

She asked. He wasn't sure this time what had caused his stomach to erupt in butterflies, her close proximity or the perfume, or the fact that he was nervous. All he knew was the whole thing about him being a chicken made him do crazy things to prove his non-chickeness. Even if it meant asking Bones something of Bones that made him highly uncomfortable.

"You remember our last case?" he asked stupidly.

"Of course I do, Booth, we only wrapped it this morning."

"Right. Well, you remember what Kendall said about me…"

She frowned, and he found new appreciation for her brows, "About you being a chicken? Firstly, I don't understand what he meant and secondly, he was only trying to get you upset, I could tell. Thirdly, Booth, the man is a pedophile and a killer! Anything he says about you, especially if it involves sex is bound to be warped…"

"Bones, Bones, slow down! The guy said I was chicken because I haven't ever asked you out."

She paused, looking at him as if she had never seen him before. "What?"

"I told him that you and I were just partners when he asked if I ever 'hit that' …hit you…"

"Why would you hit me?" she asked, confused as usual.

"It means if we ever had … you know… Anyway, he asked if we had ever tried going out, I said no, he called me a chicken, you walked back into the room."

"What do you mean 'you know'? No, I don't know. Was he asking if we ever had sex? Wouldn't that be considered unethical?"

"Yes, but," he gently pushed her off of him, only just getting uncomfortable at her soft weight, "Well, you know, you're a beautiful woman and a lot of people wonder why you and I aren't intimate. We both know it is because we're really good friends and partners, but other people don't know that. Thus, Kendall called me chicken… It implies I'm scared to ask you out."

"And now it bothers you." She finished.

"Well…yes it does."

"I can understand that, I guess. Males especially tend to feel obligated to uphold their manliness and display very overassertive attributes. It has been this way ever since it was decided that they should take on the role of providers."

"Does that all mean that you'll help me?"

She looked at him. "Help you what?"

"Help me prove that I'm not chicken. Go out with me. Tonight. You can wear what you have on. It doesn't have to be a date date, just a casual dinner with a friend. It would make me feel much better."

 Okay, so I can't write any more. My mother is going to murder me for coming home late and not calling her. Next time, I'll try to find a nice explanation for why Booth just all of a sudden wants to prove to the world that he's not afraid of dating Bones. This explanation may need some work.


End file.
